


Equilibrium

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cock Warming, Dean's really good at sex, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Good Sex, Smut, thigh riding, versatile sex partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21671815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: They have balance.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 91





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: I got annoyed with all my WIPs today and my utter inability to move forward on any of them (no matter how hard @stusbunker tried to help) so I decided to write some random Dean lovin’ inspired by this post.
> 
> Many thanks to @justcallmeasmodeus for the green light! xox

I get back from a routine questioning of some of the local bar patrons down the street to find Dean sprawled diagonally across the better part of our still-made bed. He appears to be nursing some kind of wound and I roll my eyes.

“What happened?” I ask as I close the door.

I’m not annoyed with _him_ per se, but I did tell him not to go to the crime scene alone.

Did he listen? No.

“Some jackwagon jumped me, got a cheap shot in,” he groans, not moving from his spot – legs bent at the knees so his boots are planted on the floor, open and inviting.

I grin, tossing my coat over the arm of the small love seat in our room. As I cross the small expanse between us, I kick my boots off along the way and hike my sweater dress up so that I can knee onto the mattress and straddle his torso.

“Oh, baby,” I coo, throwing a knee over him before asking if it’s safe to do so. He grunts a little.

“You didn’t break a rib did you?” I ask as I back up and straddle one thigh then dip in to inspect his eye and cheekbone. The skin is broken, but he doesn’t need stitches. He’ll have that black eye for a few days, though.

“Nah.” He tosses the rag-wrapped ice aside and slides his hands up my thighs, under the heavy, grey knit. “How’d your thing go?” he asks, smoothing rough, gentle palms over my skin until I’m covered in goosebumps.

I sigh and gently push his denim shirt out of the way before ducking in to kiss his jaw.

“It was a bust,” I keep my voice quiet as my lips travel the sharp curve of his jaw on my way to pull his earlobe into my mouth. “No one saw or heard anything.”

He shivers under me as his hands slowly become surer.

Dean treats every time as the first time – like he has to ask for permission. He treats me like I matter. That very first night when I offered myself to him as a thank you for help on a hunt, every caress, kiss, thrust was deliberate and meant for _us_.

I used to wonder if Dean was the same with every woman until I saw how he adapted when I wanted him to dominate me – or whatever. I just wanted to play, but I saw a side of him that night that still brings a gush of moisture between my thighs and sends tingles down my spine.

So, yeah, Dean gives each and every partner what they want and need. He revels in it. He knows I like to be in control for the most part – that’s where I’m most comfortable, but he also knows just when to shift the reins and how.

His hands swallow my hips as he scoots up toward the headboard with me in place to rub just right over his thick, hard thigh. He smirks and his eyes darken as he pushes down a little for good measure, and my breath stutters through my smiling lips.

“Fuck today, then,” he murmurs, settling the full bottom of my sweater dress at my waist so not only do I have unlimited access to the friction of rough denim against my damp underwear-covered cunt, but he can watch without obstruction.

His hands drag upward – one into my hair and the other resting flat against my breastbone, warm fingers almost wrapping around my throat.

“Gonna get yourself off on my thigh, Princess?” His eyes are half-hooded, and his pink lips are so inviting – tongue dancing to the rhythm I’ve set with my hips.

I bite my bottom lip hard and clamp my thighs around his, roll my hips and _God_ ….

When he calls me ‘Princess’ it takes my breath away. When he calls me ‘Princess’, it means he wants the reins.

But for now, I’m still on top.

He’s moved us to the headboard, and he lets me kiss him and remove his denim shirt, his t-shirt, and his necklace. I ride him, working myself to a rolling boil as my hands objectively seek his bare, scarred skin.

“How do you just-” My breath hitches as he lifts his leg a little, increasing the overall pressure.

He slides his hand up just enough to thumb one side of my throat and press thick fingers against the other, the tips, tickling the nape of my neck.

“What’re you waitin’ for?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper and his grip around my throat mimics our beat. “Come.”

I come shaking, staring at the ceiling and nails digging into his shoulders.

Before I know it, Dean’s moving lightning fast and stalwart. My dress is gone and I’m on my back with him kneeling wide between my knees, working his belt open.

“You got that look in your eye, Princess,” he says, smirking down at me as he carefully pulls the leather from the denim loops. He folds the belt in half then snaps it and I jolt in my prone position.

My legs try to bend and close, but he isn’t having it.

Dean drops to all fours over me and kisses me deep and long. He slowly pushes my legs open wider with his knees then drags his mouth from mine to nip at my throat. “Open my pants,” he says.

His tone isn’t the least bit harsh. There’s no demand, there’s no edge to it. This is pure, unadulterated Dean – smooth and princely.

He’s heavy over me, he’s got the upper hand. If he wanted to force me, to make me do anything only he wanted, he could with a flick of his wrist.

Instead, he’s patient, arching over me while I do as he’s asked. He’s sincere with his kisses before finally rearing back to rid us of my underwear then lift and drape my legs over his thighs, he shows me how much he _wants_ to find pleasure together.

He doesn’t rush anything as he teases my slick opening with the head of his cock and his fingers. He pushes inside just an inch, edges in and out just barely, as his thumb circles my clit.

I use my hands to cup and squeeze my lace-covered breasts the way he likes before pulling the thin material out of the way enough for my nipples to peek over the tops. I feel him throb, hear him groan, watch his face smooth and smile wide.

When he finally pushes all the way inside, my back is arched and my nipples are pulled taut between my fingers and thumbs. He works to find that spot and then riffs on it – persistently, gently, so blessedly thorough.

Dean holds my hips aloft and drills into me, panting. “Can’t wait…” he breathes. “Can’t wait to feel you come.”

He looks so good – so beautiful and right as he fucks me so well.

And I’m so close.

I drop my hand to where we’re joined, where he’s completely owning me, and press down over the mound. The drag of him in and out is so snug, then, that I start to quiver.

“Dean,” I whisper and he nods, fucking into me harder.

“Oh, fuck,” he swears with his eyes closed and his hands gripping my thighs. “Please come.”

He’s so solid, so thick, and just _so right_. I can’t deny him what he wants.

I let go of my breath and let it all wash over me. I feel everything as I come again.

Soon he comes inside me, slows but doesn’t stop, and gently arches his body over me again. His hand soothes my hip and thigh to relax under him. He keeps thrusting into me lazily as he settles onto his forearms and in the cradle of my hips, giving me as much of his weight as I can bear.

“Shit, we’re good at this,” I whisper, and he chuckles, nuzzling my neck.

We make out with him sliding in and out of my body until I feel him getting hard again. The stretch is blissful. It feels sacred, clandestine to have him like this. He never ceases to amaze me, to please me.

I roll him to his back, kiss his plump lips, and watch him stretch under me as I take back those reins.


End file.
